Love Fool
by Grdnofevrythng
Summary: So, really last night isn't a big deal. Quinn was just curious and lonely and drunk. Santana was probably the same. So, she shouldn't be freaking out.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I certainly wish I did. They'd hump like bunnies on viagra.**

**A/N: This fic is the result of a late night conversation with a friend who was having overwhelming Quinntana feelings. I hope I do this story justice.**

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Everything is bright when hazel eyes flutter open and her hand flies to her face, trying to block out the light that is doing nothing to help the throbbing pain in the back of her head. Her skull actually feels swollen and she wishes she could turn the sun down about eight thousand notches in the brightness department. Her eyes snap shut immediately and she hisses out a curse under her breath. How had she forgotten to close the blinds? Oh that's right. It probably has something to do with the way that even the sound of her own breathing is making the pounding in her head worse and the heaviness in her body.

Her fingers scramble to grasp the thick hotel comforter and she tosses off of her body, noticing two things. The first is her own nakedness, which is definitely unusual because she rarely sleeps naked, and the second that there's a slender, brown arm around her waist making her hasty escape to the window an impossibility. She looks down at the arm with resentment and tries to ignore the memories that make her want to close her eyes, and just let herself revel. Which is all the more reason why she should get up go. She's been fighting this for months. _Months_. She's been telling herself that it's completely normal to be curious when someone you've known for a significant amount of time has a complete lifestyle change. In high school, she'd been too busy to really dwell on anything going on with anyone else. Now she's in college and meeting new people and learning new things. So, how could she not be curious? And look at Santana. She's gorgeous and she _finally_ understands why everyone in high school seemed to be obsessed with her.

So, really last night isn't a big deal. Quinn was just curious and lonely and drunk. Santana was probably the same. So, she shouldn't be freaking out. Only she is because she remembers last night vividly. The way Santana's lips had tasted, the feel of her fingers against her skin, the way her breath had felt on the nape of her neck all comes flooding back and intermingle with the feelings Quinn is having and has been having for months now. Probably since she saw Santana standing in the auditorium in that green dress during Thanksgiving break.

And it wouldn't be so bad if this was just about having her curiosity sated, but no she has to be fucking Alice following the White Rabbit down the hole into an unknown world. She is Lucy through the wardrobe and the part of them that carried them off in search of adventure is the same part of her that wants to keep laying here. It's the part of her that makes her want to bury her face into the side of Santana's neck and inhale the scent of musk and sweat and a hint of the True Religion perfume she's been obsessed with since high school. But that would be such a bad idea and she's made enough of those to last her a lifetime.

And of course she's awake before Santana. A look at the nearby clock reveals that it's a quarter past ten and a sober Santana sleeps until noon. No telling when hungover Santana will wake up. Quinn's always been an early riser and she's never hated herself more for that fact than now, because she's being forced to deal with this all alone. It would be so much easier if Santana had just gotten up and slipped away in the early morning or if she just hadn't wrapped herself around Quinn's body and fallen asleep in the first place. Because Quinn thinks she could handle the silence of the rejection. It's the idea of Santana waking up and confirming that this didn't mean anything and blaming it on the alcohol and loneliness and seeing Brittany cuddling next to Sam was just too much for her.

It's not hard to slip free from under Santana's arm. She weighs practically nothing and sleeps like the dead once she's gone. Still Quinn lingers a moment or two longer than she should before sliding free. A part of her wonders, just for the briefest of seconds, if it would be so bad if Santana woke up and it's that thought, the brief hesitation, that has her out of the bed. She locates her panties near the bottom of the bed and she finds her dress crumpled on Santana's "side" of the bed. She doesn't have a clue where her bra is, but she doesn't want to waste the time to find it in case Santana surprises them both and wakes up. She pulls on her heels and hurries to the door. She takes one last look at the girl sleeping in the bed and then walks about before she can do something stupid, like wait around for Santana to get up.

There's no one in the hallway thankfully and she berates herself repeatedly on the way to her room. She should've learned her lesson about drunkenly hooking up with people the first time, but no she still makes poor decision while "under the influence." At least this one can't get her pregnant and kicked out of her house. Yet, this one feels almost as devastating. It causes this strange ache in her chest and makes her throat thick with a sob.

She's just rolling her eyes at her own dramatics when she hears a low whistle behind her. She turns and sees Puck leaning against the door of a room she just passed. He's eying her slowly and there's this smirk on his face that has her narrowing her eyes and gritting her teeth.

"Well, well Fabray, I never thought I'd see you doing the walk of shame. Thought you were too good for that." His tone is amused and he pushes away from the wall, strolling towards her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says casually and looks past him to a spot on the wall. It's a trick she's been employing since freshman year of high school, the mask of cool indifference, like she can't see you. She prays it works because she really doesn't need this right now.

Puck chuckles and shakes his head. "Yeah, sure you don't. You're just walking down the hall in a dress that looks like it spent a night crumpled on some dude's floor and you just look plain _fucked_ yourself." He's enjoying this far too much for her liking and she kinds of wants to slap that look right off of his face, but instead she just keeps staring at the wall, willing herself not to react even as his words conjure up memories of Santana peeling her dress off of her body. "Who was it, Q? I'm not mad. I kinda want to go congratulate the guy on getting into Fort Knox."

Quinn's eyes flicker to his face and she just stares at him, unimpressed and incredulous. "Are you done? Because I swear to God if you say one more asinine thing out of you mouth, I will make sure they can't identify the body, Puckerman. Just because little girls find you charming doesn't mean you actually are." It's her turn to fix him with a knowing look because of course she and Kitty have kept in touch and she knows all about the night of Sadie Hawkin's Dance. "I just hope you were smarter with her than you were with me." She spins on her heels and starts back in the direction she was going.

"I think getting laid was supposed to make you less of a bitch," Puck calls after her, but she lets it roll off of her back and heads into her room at the end of the hall. She heads into the bathroom and turns on the shower to as hot as she can. She pushes all thoughts of Puck and Kitty and high school out of her mind completely. She steps inside of the shower and, for the first time, allows the tears to flow freely from her eyes. Let's all the pain and anguish spill from her and wash down the drain with the water because once she's out of there, once the water runs cold, she's going to have to pick herself up and get over this. Get over the fact that she had sex with Santana Lopez and it meant everything in the world to her. And it probably meant nothing at all to the other girl.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I have very grand ideas about where this fic is going, but I don't know how long it will take to get there. I hope you all just enjoy the ride. Thank you for the reviews. I appreciate every one of them. **

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Santana wakes up with a start. Karmin's "Too Many Fish" fills the otherwise quiet room and she reaches over and grabs her phone, silencing it before her brain exploded out of her head. She sits up and rubs her temples. What the hell had even happened last night? There had been a wedding and champagne and then some tequila and a_ lot_ of wine. She and Quinn had...Her dark eyes shot over to the other side of the bed, but she was alone.

"No...no...no, no, no, no..." Santana mumbles to herself, throwing back her covers and jumping out of the bed. She looks down at herself and groans. 'Yep, naked...motherfucker." She runs her hand over her face and turns, trying to find any trace of the other girl. Only there isn't any. None at all. Great, just great, this was all she needed.

She grabs her phone and sighs when she sees she had ten text messages and four missed calls and not a single one of them is from Quinn. She tosses the phone onto the bed and reaches for her discarded dress. It's rolled into a ball. She vaguely remembers balling it in her fist once she'd pulled it over her head whilst straddling Quinn's waist. She'd kind of just thrown it to the floor and she remembers thinking she should maybe drape it across the chair. She also remembers that Quinn had scratched her nails down her abs and she'd thought "fuck it" about the dress.

The sudden rush of wetness between her legs reminds her that she was, in fact, an idiot. Why had she slept with Quinn? That is probably the dumbest thing she ever could have done. And the thing is, she can't exactly blame it on all of the booze because she remembers clearly thinking that if she got Quinn drunk enough, they'd probably end up having sex. Just something about Quinn's whole "I'm done with men," had sounded like a beacon to Santana's lady parts and she really needs to learn how to say no to them because they always get her into trouble.

Another text message comes through and she reaches for her phone, looking down. She rolls her eyes when she reads the text from Rachel asking her to please join everyone down in the restaurant for a late lunch. Puck texts her two minutes later, requesting the same thing and she sighs again. She shoots back that she'll be there after she showered and dressed and then heads off to the bathroom.

There is a bruise on the inside of her right thigh that smarts like a mother when she runs her loofa over it and it just reminds her of Quinn's lips on her thigh while she rubbed her fingers against Santana's spot and God, she'd girl would just slide a hand between her legs right here and now if she wasn't actually sore.

Last night had been...eye opening. It was nothing at all like she'd been expecting. Quinn had been bold and hungry. She'd given as good as she got and if she were any other person, Santana would be hunting her down for round three. But it isn't. It's Quinn and last night can never happen again. It is too...complicated and the last the last thing she needs is more complications.

She turns off the taps and steps out of the stall, grabbing a towel. It feels rough against her skin and toughens her resolve. She's not going to make the same mistakes that she has been since freshman year of high school. New York is supposed to be her brand new start. And this momentary lapse in judgement aside, she's doing well on that path. So no more mistakes like this and maybe she can salvage her friendship with Quinn before things have a chance to get fucked up. It's already bad enough she has one best friend she can't be in the same room with without cringing. She doesn't want another one.

Everyone at the table is wearing glasses besides Rachel who's like unnaturally lucky in that she rarely has a hangover. Santana takes a seat between Puck and Mike and she grunts when they greet her because their low voices sound like she's underwater. Rachel and Finn are whispering towards each other and yeah, they also probably made wonderful decisions last night that ended up with Rachel crawling him like Jack climbed the beanstalk and for some reason that really pisses her off.

"Someone pass me the damn coffee," she says suddenly, her voice a decibel louder than necessary. The new kids look startled, but her fucks cup is definitely empty. So, she fills it with coffee instead.

"Guess some of us didn't get lucky last night. I'm disappointed, Lopez," Puck says, nudging her shoulder. "I mean there was plenty of tail to get at."

"Mhm...truth," Artie agrees from somewhere off to Santana's right and she'd toss this hot coffee into his face, but it's already bad enough he's in a wheelchair.

She considers pulling off her sunglasses so that Puck knows to lay off, but she doesn't have time before he's speaking again. "There's gotta be something wrong in the world when Q's getting ass and you're not."

It feels like the whole table is quiet at that and she spares a glance in the direction that everyone's looking, some of them with mild interest, the others intrigued. Quinn's green eyes are hidden behind her own pair of Wayfarers, but Santana knows the exact moment when their eyes meet. Her heart starts to pound, but she never lets on. Instead she looks away, her hand smacking the back of Puck's head. "Some of us don't want to scam on high school trade, Puck."

Kitty's face turns bright red at that and Sugar and Tina sort of gasp dramatically. There's a buzz at the table now for a completely different reason and Jake looks kind of pissed. So, mission accomplished, Santana thinks and risks a glance at Quinn again. The other girl isn't looking anymore and three minutes later, when Santana looks for her again, she's gone.

"Christ, what is wrong with you chicks this weekend?" Puck says under his breath, clearly annoyed.

Good, she thinks. Serves him right for being an asshole and she smiles to herself as Rachel starts to grill him about dating girls that are definitely under the age of eighteen. Santana doesn't even feel bad when she adds that he's probably not dating her because sexual contact doesn't equate dating.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: These first couple of chapters are going to be short and I apologize. I just end them when they feel done. This story took an unexpected turn this weekend and the chapters will be longer as the story progresses. Thanks for sticking it out with me. Also thanks for the all of the follows and reviews. It means a lot. **

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_Santana's lips ghost across her jaw and she hears the way her breathing is labored. She's just as excited, wants this just much as Quinn does. That thought alone has Quinn even wetter and her legs spread wider when she feels fingers teasing the inside of her left thigh. They find her center and she lets out this choked off moan, her hips jumping._

_"You might actually be too wet," Santana breathes into her ear and her fingers slide up, running over Quinn's clit. "I'm mean I'm not complaining because God, you're..." She doesn't finish the sentence, but Quinn can feel the gentle rumble of her soft chuckle all over her body. _

_Her arousal is acute, licking up her spine sharply and she feels like she's drowning in Santana. The girl is everywhere. Their hot, sweat-slicked skin moves together and her free hand is in Quinn's hair. Her lips swallow the blonde's moans hungrily and those fingers are pushing inside so deep that her breath catches. And she's just drowning._

There is banging at her door and it jolts Quinn out of her sleep. Her eyes flutter open and all she can think is she will murder whomever is on the other side of it. She's spent the better part of her day sleeping off her hangover and truthfully that dream has her wanting to touch herself. Only she can't because the knocking is becoming persistent.

Standing up, Quinn charges towards the door and stops short when her fingers reach the knob. She hesitates as it occurs to her that it could very well be Santana on the other side. That makes her heart beat faster and she feels frozen. She's so not ready to do deal this this and she knows she's just being a coward, but she's just can't have it ruined. Not yet.

"Quinn, are you in there?"

Instantly annoyed, Quinn opens the door and tries not to growl at Kitty standing on the other side. She tamps down on the disappointment at not finding Santana and looks at the younger girl expectantly.

"Were you asleep? You look...rough," Kitty says, strolling inside as if she were invited. Quinn has always admired the girl's confidence, seen parts of herself in the blonde, but there's something about Kitty that sets her on edge. It's probably that Quinn sees all of the nasty qualities she used to relish shining through just beneath that icy, good girl Christian exterior Kitty wears proudly like her Cheerios uniform.

"Um yes, I'm a little hungover," she says quickly, her irritation growing as Kitty starts to make herself at home. "Was there something you wanted?"

Kitty's blue eyes study her, making her feel like she's on exhibit. "Damage control. You, more than anyone, should know that I can't afford for anyone to know I did the horizontal Tarzan and Jane with a Puckerman, specifically Noah Puckerman. It's one thing to be with a mulatto because everyone knows his mom is still a Jesus-loving good Baptist woman. But Puck is all Jew and all moron and I can't have that getting around."

Quinn rolls her eyes. She really doesn't have time for this drama that she left behind when she said goodbye to her mother her first day in New Haven. "I don't know. Maybe you shouldn't have done it in the first place. For someone who claims to have admired my Phoenix-like triumph in high school, you seem pretty eager to be following in my footsteps."

Something flashes across the other girl's face and it's so quick that Quinn almost doesn't see it. But it's there, like some sort of visible turning point in their relationship and her skin tingles with awareness. "Please, I hardly call letting him treat me to a few casual dining restaurants of my choosing in exchange for a few moments of pleasure following in your footsteps. I mean at least I'm using protection other than prayer and it's taking more than a six pack and few sweet nothings to get into this promised land." Kitty's grin is smug and It's taking all of Quinn's might not to cross the room and slap her in her face.

"Don't kid yourself, honey. You want to be me so hard you're even gobbling up my sloppy seconds, but like any great film critic will tell you, the sequel is never as good as the original. I'm _Grease_ and you're _Grease 2_. You don't even compare. And you might think you're in control, but you're chasing after him like a puppy practically wetting herself for a prized bone." Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hears Santana's patented "wanky" and feels herself smirk. "Everyone already sees it whether you want to believe it or not. And I never chased him. I never needed to because he respected me at the end of the day and you're just another piece of ass to him. And when he gets tired of you, and make no mistake he will, all you'll have is what is left of your reputation. So, I think you have some decisions to make and I'm not your babysitter, sweetie. Clean up your own mess." She pulls the door open and looks at Kitty expectantly.

"Well, it looks like we can add bitch to your resume as a washed up, has-been that will probably peak in high school." Kitty's eyes are cold as she heads towards the door, glaring at Quinn.

"Well this has-been goes to Yale, and you're probably going to be stuck in Lima living off of the money Puck makes cleaning pools in a state where there's a winter. Enjoy being prom queen because that's all you'll ever get." Quinn watches the other girl cross the threshold and her grip tightens on the door. "Oh and Kitty, don't ever try to outbitch me. You are hardly at my level and it's just really embarrassing." Her smile is sickeningly sweet as she slams the door behind her and leans against it.

Santana would be proud of her. She'd high five her and give her that smile she always gave whenever Quinn would verbally destroy anyone they didn't like. The thought causes an ache in her chest and she feels some of her hollow victory fade away. She wonders when she started needing that, Santana's silent approval.

She remembers her first day in high school, her first real day as Quinn. The part of her that was still the chubby little nobody with no friends had been terrified. She'd seen Santana, standing by her locker, glaring at anyone who brushed against her accidentally. Puck and a few of the other guys that were standing around had been all over her and she'd smiled seductively at them so completely confident. It had attracted Quinn's attention, made her want to befriend the girl. She wanted that kind of power for herself because she'd never had it as the girl that no one wanted to even be seen talking to. So, she'd studied Santana from afar for about a week after that. Boys followed her wherever she went and it seemed like most girls either wanted to be her or feared her. Quinn's sister had been a lot like that, but it was a far more attractive attitude on this girl who Quinn was almost positive could back up every idle threat she issued.

Later she'd seen Santana in the line to tryout for the Cheerios. Quinn had seen the girls in their uniforms walking around and had debated joining. Everyone wanted to be them and she'd figured with her dance and gymnastics training she'd at least have a fighting chance. She'd also figured that this, if nothing else would offer the best possibility of being friends with Santana. Only, she couldn't be afraid of her. She'd learned that from watching the girl. The moment she sensed even the slightest quiver in your voice, she went in for the kill. Quinn was smarter than that. The first time Puck had checked her out in the hallway two days ago had served to remind Quinn she had just as much to offer if not more. She was a Fabray and she'd worked to become this girl that no longer resembled her past. She shouldn't be wasting her time wanting Santana to be her friend. She should be the one Santana was seeking out.

_Quinn walks over to the line and spots Santana standing there, leaning against the wall and looking very bored as she files her nails. She's third in line and just as she's about to step up and sign her name, Quinn steps in front of her. She smiles nonchalantly and steals the pen from the girl's hand, writing her name smoothly. Inside her heart is practically pounding out of her chest because she doesn't want Santana to actually attack her._

_"Excuse you. Do you have some kind of death wish? I was here first. You need to take your ass to the back of the line with the rest of the losers," Santana says loudly, her fist clenching at her side._

_For a moment, Quinn wants to shrink away, but maybe it's that word "loser" that has her standing her ground. Lucy heard that word a lot, took it to heart. Quinn isn't going to do that. She's not that girl anymore. She gives Santana this condescending smile she's spent all summer perfecting that she stole from her sister and shakes her head. "Now is that any way to talk to your future captain? I mean, that is if you even make the squad. You look a little scrawny and weak." It's a risky thing to say, but Quinn's feeling bold._

_She sees this fire in Santana's eyes even as the girl looks like she might deck Quinn right where they stand. She reaches up and Quinn has to work not to flinch, but she doesn't. Santana snatches the pen from her hand and moves right into Quinn's space, writing her name in big, bold letters with her left hand. She turns back to Quinn and smirks. "You see that name right there? That's the name of your captain, Fabray is it? I can't wait to own your ass."_

Of course she didn't actually win the spot, Quinn did, but they were sort of friends after that. Well until Brittany came mid-year and their duo became a trio. Quinn didn't mind so much. It was easier to have somebody else do the dirty work when she couldn't seem to get Santana under control. Brittany calmed Santana and made her less of a ticking time bomb ready to explode at the slightest prompting.

Still there's a pang of something at the memories, like maybe all of this had been some sort of inevitable conclusion that neither of them has had any sort of foresight to 's not crazy enough to believe that she's been harboring some sort of crush on Santana since high school because that's not true. She might not have been as straight as she once thought, but it wasn't like she scribbled Santana's name in hearts in her notebook and in hindsight, doing so with Rachel's name was probably a clear sign that perhaps she had some leanings. It's just she doesn't want to go there in her mind either. That's a therapist's wet dream, of that she's certain. Plus Rachel never made her feel like that.

She feels pathetic. She's actually pining...over _Santana_ and it's just actually grossing her out. She probably just needs some fresh air. There's an indoor pool downstairs and she can just go swimming and clear her mind. She promised herself she'd be over this by now. She's just not working hard enough.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for all the follows and the reviews. They humble me and keep me going. This story is a labor of love and I love hearing your thoughts. **

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Santana rubs at the bridge of her nose to keep from snapping at Rachel. Usually her tolerance for the incessant rambling is a lot higher, but she's been in a pissy mood since breakfast. And this, her whining over shit that Santana could care less about, is doing nothing to help it. Still, she's keeping her bitch in check because sometimes being with Rachel is a little like being with Brittany. Her feelings are easily hurt and Santana doesn't feel like apologizing.

There are a few of the newbies in the pool. Marley's on Jake's shoulders and Brittany's on Sam's and they're playing a game of chicken. She rolls her eyes when she watches her two exes and thinks awful things like how stupid their kids would be if they ever had them. Only that's insulting to Brittany and she feels really bad for thinking it. Brittany isn't stupid and she's still in love with her or something. She's not entirely sure anymore. The feeling she gets in her chest whenever she looks at her is foreign, not quite the jealousy she's used to feeling.

"Santana, are you listening to me?" Rachel huffs beside her, drawing her attention back.

Frowning, she shrugs. "Yeah." It's a total lie because she hasn't been listening since about five minutes after Rachel sat down and started talking in the first place.

"Then what should I do?" There's this look in her eyes that tells Santana she's actually expected to give some sort of answer, but she doesn't know what to even say.

"About what?"

"Finn! We slept together and I came here promising myself I wouldn't do that. I don't understand it, but he is my weakness. One look into his eyes when I'm singing and it's like this fire inside of me just-"

Santana holds up her hand, head already shaking despite the remainder of her headache that still won't go away. "No, I'm not...if you want my advice you will not talk about how Finn The Giant Manchild Hudson gets your panties wet. I don't want to know."

"_Santana!_"

"Yeah, no, I'm being serious. I don't need that kind of visual when I'm trying to hold down my breakfast, okay?" She slides her glasses down her nose enough to look Rachel in the eyes. "Look. I know you're supposed to be with Nyada's version of if Finn and Puck had some sort of unnaturally donkey-faced child together, but if you didn't think you were going to fuck Finn on this trip, then I can't help you because you're clearly lying to yourself."

Rachel's quiet for a moment like she's letting the words sink in and settle over her. She bites her bottom lip and glances over to where Finn's sitting with Mike talking and then back at Santana. "We're supposed to be broken up."

Santana rolls her eyes and pushes her glasses back up her nose. "You know how many times Brittany and I were 'broken up' and still got it in? Or Puck for that matter..." Okay, maybe she's not the example she should be using, but it's all she's got. "When you have feelings for someone which, even as gross as it is, you obviously still have, then I don't know how you're surprised. I mean Jesus fuck, Rachel, you were going to marry him like months ago."

There's a movement to her right and Santana looks over, catching sight of Quinn. She doesn't hear whatever it is that Rachel says next because she can't stop looking. It's not all that surprising that she's at the pool and Quinn loves to swim. No, it's what she's wearing when she sheds her blue cover up. It's totally sexy even though it's nothing risque by any stretch of the imagination. Santana's seen her in the standard issued Cheerios bikini before, which was far more revealing, and hell she saw her naked the night before. It's just that her breasts look kind of amazing in the halter top half and she's wearing these sort of shorts that make her ass look even better.

She knows she's not the only one that notices because she hears Puck whistle and yell some sort of assholish thing from the other side of the pool. Santana can't even like be offended on Quinn's behalf because she's definitely still staring at her ass when she walks to the other side and jumps in. As she resurfaces, there's a moment where Santana feels like she's in some cheesy 80's teen movie because the water actually kind of sexily washes over Quinn's head and it feels like everything slows down around her. She thinks there's a moment where their eyes lock and there's this intense feeling that makes her stomach flip. Only she can't be sure if it's real or if she's just hallucinating from the chemical smell of the pool.

"I guess some things never change," she hears Rachel mumble next to her and chances a look over at the other girl. How long had she just checked out? She wonders if Rachel noticed, but decides she didn't when Rachel isn't even looking at her. She seems more amused than anything else by it all, which is good because she didn't catch Santana practically drooling over someone she's definitely not supposed to be even noticing anymore.

She sits back in her lounger and forces herself to pay attention to Rachel. Luckily, she doesn't seem to want to spend much more time talking about Finn. Though, there was probably merit in that. Now that she doesn't sleep with guys anymore, she doesn't find Finn, or Puck for that matter, particularly attractive and talking about them would keep her inappropriate thoughts from straying to the previous night.

It doesn't seem like that will matter anyway because when Rachel casually asks where she disappeared to after the reception, Quinn's name is out of her mouth before she can catch it. "I mean Quinn and I got bored and went to hang out in my room." She wills her voice to not waiver and thinks it works when Rachel just nods.

"I should've come with you. I probably wouldn't have ended up...in the predicament I'm currently in," she says more to herself.

Santana doesn't mention how last night Rachel was the furthest thing from her mind with about a million other things that weren't getting Quinn naked and on her back in the quickest way possible. "I think you're being dramatic and it's getting annoying," she says instead. "I'm giving you another five minutes to get this little act out of your system or I will straight cut you."

It's Rachel's turn to roll her eyes, but she smiles. Santana isn't joking however and gives the other girl a pointed look which is decided less effective since she's wearing sunglasses. "I think I'll be okay. I just need to make it through the party tonight and then I'll be back in New York."

"Party? There's a party tonight?" Santana perks up at that because she wasn't about to spend her Saturday night sitting in a hotel room watching HBO.

"Didn't Noah tell you? Oh I told him to do it about eight times. I guess he forgot. Never the less, he's hosting a party. He keeps calling it a reunion, but I don't think it quite qualifies." Rachel reaches for her phone and holds it up for her to see. "Everyone's going, but the new kids aren't allowed."

The last thing Santana needs to do is spend another night drinking. She's barely over her hangover as it is, but it's that or sit around in her hotel room and try not to think about Quinn, specifically Quinn naked and making those little gasping breaths. But it'll probably be more than that because she's been pushing thoughts of Quinn out of her mind all day. She's kind of mad at herself because this isn't her first one night stand. It's not even her tenth one night stand, but she can't seem to let it go and she wants to. It's just not going to end well if she doesn't.

She's already planning her outfit out in her mind. She just needs to not get completely sloppy. It will stop her from making any more terrible mistakes. Though, as she thinks that, there's a big commotion near the pool and she turns just in time to see Sugar and Quinn pushing Joe into the pool. The girls laugh loudly when Joe resurfaces, wiping at his face and sputtering. Quinn's whole face is lit up and Santana finds herself chuckling fondly because God, has Quinn always looked like that when she smiles?

The blonde looks over at her and there's this little grin playing at Quinn's lips that makes Santana have to look away. She should just forget about the party and stay in. Something tells her if she doesn't, she'll definitely be making many more bad decisions.

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**A/N: Don't fret. They speak in the next chapter. As much as I was enjoying writing a fic about a pairing that never interacts, lol, they will have a conversation in chapter 5. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Again thanks for all of the reviews and to everyone who's still reading it. I'm sorry this update took a little long. I recently moved back to SC and I wasn't happy with what I'd originally written. So, I had to rewrite a lot of it. There's actual Quinntana interaction in this. I swear it. And it's actually a longer update. Like I said before, this fic took on a new direction. So, they'll be getting longer. I hope you'll enjoy it. **

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The music is loud when Quinn arrives at Puck's new house and she's grateful she has a plan. It took her most of the day to decide to even go, but it's ridiculous for her to keep hiding from Santana because it's her last night there and after tomorrow, she basically never has to see the other girl again if she doesn't want to. They live in two very large and very different cities and there's about a million reasons for them to never cross paths. So, really, this ball is in her court and she isn't exactly sure why she's been trying to pass it off to Santana in the first place.

It had been her decision, long before her flight to Lima, to seduce Santana and she'd succeeded far easier than she'd ever imagined. It's not that Santana is easy. Quinn would be a fool to believe half the shit Puck and Santana have said about bedding so many people. In fact, she has it on good authority that the whole rep had started with some guy during freshman year saying Santana had let him get to third base and that was a lie because she'd been there the whole time and the most they ever did was make out on one couch while Quinn and Finn were doing it on another. Santana just chose to not correct the assumption and thus the whole rep was born.

That isn't to say she isn't experienced. She is. Far more than Quinn is, but it's just not to the level that she'd like everyone to think. It helps Quinn feel less like a notch on Santana's belt and she can and does take great comfort in knowing that. So even if Santana wants to brush it off and act as if Quinn was nothing more than an opportunity, and that might even be true for her, Quinn knows that when Santana looked into her eyes right as her fingers danced where they were needed most and Quinn was almost begging for it and asked if she was okay, if this was all okay, Santana cared.

With that knowledge fixed in her mind, Quinn feels ready. She can do this, face Santana one last time. But it's more than that. She feels something else, a new confidence of sorts. She told the other girl that it was just an experiment, a one-time thing and Santana seemed content to allow Quinn the opportunity. So, she's going to make the most of this. She doesn't want everyone to know, that would be a disaster, but this is Puck's party and everyone will probably be too drunk to notice anything she's doing. She isn't certain anything will happen, but if she can manage to slip away with Santana into a room, she's going to take it.

She reaches out and hits the bell, rocking on her heels. There's a muffled "I'll get it" and then the door is opening.

Rachel's eyes are brights and there's a blue colored drink in her hand as she answers. "Quinn! I'm so happy you came," she greets, pulling the blonde into a tight hug.

She smells of coconut and alcohol and Quinn pulls back with an amused grin. "I can see that." They stand there for a moment and Quinn looks past her. "Do you think I could come in?"

Dark eyes go wide, and Rachel's head bobs up and down. "I'm so sorry. Come in." She steps aside and Quinn walks past her. The house is nice and definitely a step up from the apartment she once lived in when she was pregnant. "Everyone's out back. There's this thing Noah's using keep everyone warm. Plus, there's a hot tub!" The last sentence is said in this sing-song voice that makes Quinn laugh. "I hope you brought your suit."

Quinn holds up her bag and nods. "Just like Puck told me." She looks around, seeing more than just their little group. There's other football players and a Cheerio or two she recognizes. She just has no desire to talk to any of them. It's weird, but she wonders when she started preferring the Glee Club over them. She sees Rachel nearly stumble before her and reaches out to steady her. "How many have you had?" She says close to Rachel's ear. The music is loud as they move through the house and she wants to be sure she's heard.

"Only a couple. Santana says we have to match drink for drink...hey did you know she could drink so much? She doesn't even seem drunk." Rachel's words are slurring. She doesn't see the way Quinn's cheek tinge pink and her nostrils flare. She's relieved because she's sure she didn't hide her little reaction at hearing Santana's name.

"Yeah, you should be really careful when it comes to Puck and Santana. They're like professional drinkers."

"I know, right?" Rachel smiles up at her and grabs her arm, dragging her towards the kitchen. "It's so much fun. Hey look everyone, Quinn's here!" Sugar and Brittany cheer and Mercedes waves from where she's sitting at the table.

Brittany's arms settle tight around Quinn, pressing her into her side crushingly. She should be used to this by now, Brittany's pretty affectionate, especially after a few drinks, but it still catches Quinn a little off guard. She manages to get her arms around her friend and hug back, laughing when Brittany giggles against her cheek.

"Okay, I'm back with the tequila, who wants margaritas?" She hears Santana before she sees her, practically dancing into the kitchen. It's obvious she's had a few and Quinn's light eyes take in the way the muscles of her bare abdomen ripple as she rolls her hips. Clearly whatever Puck is using to heat the small backyard has made it okay to wear a barely there bikini in the middle of February in Ohio. God, how did she never notice just how hot Santana was?

Their eyes lock and Quinn's breath catches before she looks away, distracted by the way Brittany is pulling her hand. "Come on, Quinn. Let's get in the hot tub."

"Wait. I need to put my suit on," Quinn reminds her, looking around for the bathroom. She also needs a moment because she can't take looking at Santana in that...barely there thing anymore.

"Okay, the bathroom's right over there." Brittany reaches across her face as she points to the white wooden door just off of the kitchen. "Come out when you're done. Me and Sugar will save you a spot."

With a nod, Quinn heads in the direction of the bathroom. She leans against the door once she's in there, taking a few deep breaths and trying to clear her head. Her body's reaction is stronger than it had been the other night and she needs to get a grip. Obviously, she still wants the other girl if the tingle at the base of her spine is anything to go by, but she can't exactly go out there and drag Santana away. She needs to be subtle.

There's a knock at the door and she thinks it's probably Brittany or Rachel coming to ask what's taking so long. She pulls the door open and actually gasps when she sees Santana standing there. There's an awkward moment of silence where they just stare at one another before Santana's handing her a glass with bright red slush and shifting on her feet awkwardly.

"Thanks," Quinn mumbles and takes the drink. Maybe she needs subtlety and a little liquid courage. She brings it to her lips and sips, savoring the strong taste of tequila. She wonders if Santana just guessed she needed a drink or if it's sheer coincidence. There's a silence that's stretched between them and her skin prickles with awareness.

"Quinn, are we cool?" Santana asks suddenly and it looks like she's forcing herself to maintain eye contact, which amuses the blonde slightly because she knows how much that kind of things pains Santana.

She's not going to pretend she doesn't know what Santana is talking about. Even as she takes another sip she knows that's true. She just hadn't actually expected her to bring it up. Avoidance is a game they're both pros at, but here Santana was, practically shuffling her feet nervously. It would just be worse to drag this out for any longer than she already has in the first place. She just kind of wishes she'd been the one to do it because now Santana's reduced it to this simple question and it kind of pisses her off.

"Yep, we're good." Her answer is quick and nonchalant and Santana looks almost relieved when she offers her small smile. It's kind of adorable and shouldn't make Quinn want to slap her, but it does anyway. She won't, but she guesses no amount of feelings will ever really quell the urge to strike her beautiful face. Sex really complicated that aspect of their relationship, didn't it?

"Good, I thought you were avoiding me."

"Well, I'm not. Why would I avoid you?" Quinn takes another long drink and tries to take her time because brain freeze on top of what Santana's obvious relief seems to be doing to her. Her heart feels suddenly heavy, but it steels her resolve. She was expecting this, she reminds herself. She knew that Santana was going to want to forget. It just still feels a little like someone's standing on her chest.

Santana kind of shrugs and her grin turns shy. "I don't know, but I'm glad you're not." She straightens and runs a hand over her messy bun. She's silent for another moment and she just watches Quinn, her dark eyes seemingly searching for something in her expression. Her smile turns into that familiar smirk of hers and she reaches out, tugging on a lock of Quinn's hair. "Now, hurry up and change. There's prime real estate in the hot tub reserved only for the hottest girls at this party and that's clearly us."

That easy smile manages to calm Quinn's anguish, and as she closes the door, she studies her reflection in the mirror. She's here to have fun, right? And the ball is in her court, she reminds herself. She slips into her suit and folds her dress, putting it into her bag. The ball is in her court and she's going to make the most of tonight because she's not really sure what tomorrow will bring or the day after that, but for now, she's just going to enjoy her fucking night.

She drinks the rest of her drink before leaving the bathroom and then does two shots of 99 bananas with Finn before heading out to the back. If she's going to do this, she's definitely not going to be sober.

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Sugar and Brittany are discussing something that Quinn really doesn't understand, but she's laughing a lot because she's pretty drunk and everything is a lot funnier than it should be. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Sam and Tina discussing some new manga (whatever that is) and there's a few other people milling about. Things are going pretty smoothly, she thinks.

Except, it's distracting the way Santana's body sort of floats next to her in the tub. She's having a conversation with Rachel and seems to be completely oblivious to it, which irritates Quinn all the more. The heat is just making her feel drunker than the rum in her glass. She tries to ignore the arousal that's starting low in her stomach because it's inconvenient and she can't exactly pull Santana out of the tub with her, no matter how much her brain is screaming to do just that.. Rum's always made her horny and having Santana next to her, moving against her, is just making it worst.

She shifts away slightly, her fingers grazing Santana's thigh under the water accidentally in an attempt to put some distance between them. She feels more than hears the slight intake of breath in the body next to hers and spares a glance towards Santana. She's still engrossed in her conversation with Rachel, but Quinn's sure she felt Santana move. So, she tries again, this time moving her finger more purposefully against the smooth skin.

Santana sort of freezes and she doesn't look at Quinn, but the blonde's still sure that she reacted. She withdraws her hand and feels Santana relax beside her. She finally turns her head, eyes narrowed in Quinn's direction, but she's already feigning ignorance and turns back to Brittany and Sugar.

There's a thought worming its way into her brain and she's just drunk enough to think it's a good idea. This was meant for much later, but it just won't go away. Maybe it's that Santana wants to pretend like things are just the way they were before. Maybe it's that Quinn has never really been one for being ignored. Maybe it's that she'll never be able to not want to see how far she can push Santana, but it seems like the perfect thing to do. And before she can rationalize why this is definitely on the list of taking things a step too far, her fingers are grazing the inside of Santana's thigh.

She keeps her attention on her friends, but she can hear the way Santana's breathing changes with every gentle scrap of her manicured nails. It's kind of thrilling in the way it had always been to pull a prank or sneak out with a boy or when she'd sleep over at Santana's and they'd watch Cinemax after Dark. She's always wondered who'd get off on being watched or having sex in a public, always figured it would be someone like Rachel. But now she's starting to find merit, can now understand the why with every little shiver that makes its way through Santana's body.

Sipping at her drink, her fingers move higher and she's somehow managing to actually listen to Sugar's story about the dream she had where Mr. Schue was chased by a bunch of 20's mobsters. Stronger fingers wrap around her's when they find the edge of Santana's bikini bottoms. She didn't have to look to know that wide brown eyes were staring at the back of her head in shock, but turns her head anyway, giving Santana a little grin and wiggling her fingers free to tease her over the spandex material separating her from the moist heat she has no doubt is just beneath.

She presses her index finger down and Santana's teeth sink into her bottom lip. Quinn has no intentions of stopping. She loves that she has strong, thin thighs quivering from her touch. Besides, no one else seems to notice and she drains the rest of her glass and hands it to Brittany to set away from the tub. There's a gentle slosh of water behind her and she can feel the way Santana's hips roll slowly, completely undetectable, and, feeling bold, Quinn pushes the fabric aside and lets her finger dip inside.

The water makes friction nearly impossible and it's hard to rotate her wrist when she can't bend her elbow to the right angle, but this isn't about comfort. This is about some fucked conquest her mind says she needs to have. Santana groans next to her as her fingers work and covers it by clearing her throat.

It's that little action the seems to catch Brittany's attention. Quinn almost misses the way her head tilts curiously and she frowns a little. "Santana, are you okay? You look kind of-"

The rest of whatever she's going to say is cut off when Puck calls out to Sam. "Look at Evans, stud of the century. How did you manage to be the only guy in that tub, dude? I mean you look like a total pimp!" Mike and Finn are standing next to him as he raises his phone and snaps a picture. "This should be your new profile pic."

Brittany crosses the tub and manages to settle onto Sam's lap, pressing a kiss to his lips. Quinn spares a glance at Santana because that's probably a total mood killer, but she doesn't seem to be looking and she realizes it's because her fingers have started moving faster. Long lashes hide Santana's eyes and her head is bowed. Quinn can see the way her chest is rising and falling rapidly and she's grateful that Finn has come over to talk to Rachel. Her fingers twist and pinch and she presses down and Santana's whole body goes rigid. Quinn's not sure how she's managing to not move a single muscles until her climax subsides, but she does it, her body relaxing inch by inch slowly.

Quinn quickly extracts her hand and slides closer to Sugar, partly to give Santana room and partly because she's not sure what will happen now. Impulse has never really worked in her favor, but she's finding it hard to regret what just happened. That might have something to do with the throbbing between her own legs, but she's also feeling oddly victorious. Dark eyes fix on her and they look pissed, but there's something else to them.

"Quinn, can I have a word with you..._alone_?" The tone of Santana's voice leaves no room for anything but an affirmative answer. Everyone else seems surprised and as she climbs out of the tub. But Quinn follows quietly behind her.

"Good luck," she hears Brittany whisper at her and she sends a worried glance over her shoulder.

Once she's back inside of the house, Santana grabs her by the wrist and drags her up the stairs and into what Quinn assumes is Puck's sister's bedroom and slams the door. "What the fuck was that?" She demands, her face inches from Quinn's.

It's hard to think with Santana this close and the only thing Quinn can seem to look at is her mouth. Her brain struggles to find words. She's not even sure how to begin to explain why she did what she did. "I just...I wanted," she stammers out. She bites her lip to stop the words. Lucy stuttered. Quinn doesn't.

"You wanted what?" Santana's eyes are wild as they scan her face.

Quinn remembers her decision to never be afraid of Santana and just like that, her mask slips down and her eyes boldly meet Santana's. "You. I wanted you."

The kiss is bruising her plush lips before she's even seen Santana move. She pulls Quinn from the door and pushes her down onto the full-size bed, straddling her waist.

It isn't until Santana's fingers are reaching deep inside of her that she remembers why this was only supposed to be a two-time thing.

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**Ahhh! I know they didn't actually talk anything out. Give them a break, this is new territory for two people that usually avoid most of their issues. There's definitely going to be a little confrontation next chapter, on that you have my word. **


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